My Mind’s Closed Gate Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

I thought I hated ships and sailing trips,
Li’le did I know, afraid I was to drown;
I thought I hated hallowed buts and ifs,
But stuck I was on an island my own;
I hated too the sight of every shoe,
But I feared in unknown ahead to move,
Smug in cosy comforts of my igloo,
Scared of eerie change from my settled groove.
I recoiled at the sight of stamps and seals,
In muted mutiny, in wound-less war,
It was my sickly sense against power’s ills,
Not yet the sole truth to what I abhor.
Things that disturb frighten and fascinate,
Nigh but sour grapes are in the mind’s closed gate!